


ARAE

by vanitaslaughing



Series: Ignoct Week [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Deal with a Devil, Fire Powers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 02:25:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13603602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanitaslaughing/pseuds/vanitaslaughing
Summary: Ignis makes a deal with a devil.Makes a deal with two devils.He has a plan, however. One that he would set the world aflame for.





	ARAE

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MogmaMittens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MogmaMittens/gifts).



> this... got out of hand...
> 
> special thanks to kieran for giving me this idea after i struggled with the prompt for AGES, you really saved my ass there, i was about to start crying when we started talking  
> i dedicate this to you  
> oh uh and
> 
> IGNOCT WEEK, DAY 2 - Burn the world for you

_It burns. It burns so bad, but he can’t stop now that he’s ahead. Part of him wants to give in to the whisper that follows him, a soft voice that he has no idea who it belongs to, and return home. Just too bad his home lies in shambles, and the only other home he has is far, far out of his reach. Far away and gone once he finds it again._

_Not that he will let it._

_Ignis Scientia is a desperate man with a desperate plan, some would say. Ignis likes to think that this plan has absolutely no way of backfiring terribly, but still he stands in those ruins. He feels the strain of foreign magic around him as he does as he read in that book back in Lestallum. Well, not read._

_Ignis is blind, after all. Burns cover his skin even three years after Altissia, apparently make enough people uncomfortable enough to avoid him at times. Some even assume he’s Scourge-infected, and that’s just among the worst things people assume about him. There is one thing that’s even worse, but Ignis is here to correct that assumption._

_It continues burning, almost sets his skin alight once again. He’s fairly certain it’s different from the Ring of the Lucii, but the pain is familiar. Too familiar perhaps – it makes this worse somehow._

_King Regis would kill him for this. King Regis would literally kill him for this._

_Ignis doesn’t care and raises an inferno to the high skies._

* * *

One of the first things he would have to do would be ensuring that everything went to plan.

Anyone else would have likely messed the planning up somewhere. Cor Leonis was a clever man but a warrior at heart; if things came to worst he would attempt to go through the wall ahead of Ignis with his head first and withdraw once he got close to a concussion. Gladiolus Amicitia would attempt to go through until he passed out, perhaps even died from the impact. Prompto Argentum was too flighty to focus; he might have figured out a solution but would not have found the way to go through. Ignis went through all people he knew in his head and came to the solution that none of them would be able to help him with this.

Meaning it was he with himself, somewhere in the darkness that covered their world.

He was prepared to do about anything at this point. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and ever since Altissia he had tried to come up with something. The voice in his head called for resignation, asked him to understand that fate was ever unchanging unless someone broke the bonds that made up the world.

Ignis was going to break them with his own damn hands. He didn’t care if everything around him burned like it had in Altissia, like it had that night a week ago. He would fan the flames for all he cared, but he was not ready to accept fate as it was.

Noctis’ life was a price he was not prepared to pay for the greater good.

It was exceedingly selfish of him, but Ignis had not once asked for anything in his life. Noctis did not deserve this dire a fate simply because the gods needed to fulfill their prophecy. If the gods did not want to give him what he wanted after a life serving the crown he would go get it himself.

Ignis Scientia marched into the ruins of Insomnia, as blind as before. He stumbled over rubble several times, but his mind was set. At least his determination seemed to have upset some sort of power balance – not a single Daemon got in his way as he marched. He hoped at least that it was his determination that deflected them. The whisper that followed him since Altissia and the roar that had started following him a week ago were another possibility.

Eventually something barred his way, and Ignis had to note with no small amount of smug satisfaction that he was in front of the Citadel. He had gotten that far without being hindered at all, and now something was in his way. Not that anything made a move.

For a good few minutes there was silence before Ignis broke it by getting on one knee and bowing deeply.

“Your Majesty, perhaps we had it all wrong in Altissia.”

“This has to be a joke, and an elaborate one at that.”

“I’m quite afraid my humour has run dry lately. This is about as serious as I can get.” Ever since Altissia Ignis had known things. He knew the fate that awaited Noctis once he returned from the Crystal. He knew the reasons for this inevitable march into the Crown City to retake the actual Crystal, to retake the throne only for Noctis to die on it after wiping out the very source of what ailed the planet. He cracked a grin as he got back to his feet. “I do not joke around in matters concerning my heart.”

* * *

_Some people joke that Ignis dances with fire. They were not all that wrong – Ignis always tried to think of ways to utilise his own potential to the max. Of course he generally arranges that with the group in mind. Noctis has an affinity for ice, Prompto is good with electricity, Gladiolus is bad with all of them._

_Ignis dances with fire. It’s only right that it is fire that takes his sight, burns his body and continues haunting him even years later. Right now his hand feels like he placed it in open fire, back as it had felt in Altissia. There’s no ring on his hand this time, but he can feel the sting of its magic as if he’s about to warp to another place. He doesn’t warp. He can’t._

_Instead he feeds the flames until finally the voice that follows him shuts up and gives way to another. A stinging voice, low and angry._

_Ignis raises his hand slowly, the burn mark that the Ring of the Lucii left on it likely visible to people and deities who could see. It at least silences that new voice, silences the other voice._

“ _I stand before you to ask of you… to join me.”_

* * *

Ardyn Izunia was by any means an intelligent man. Sharply intelligent even; his cunning sharpened and honed over hundreds of years in preparation for the day he would have to have the stage set. He had single-handedly uprooted the empire in a few clever moves that fed upon the obsessions of its leaders, he had caused the Wall to fall and Insomnia with it, had likely orchestrated the invasion of the other countries years upon years in the past. He had guided the Oracle along her way, guided her brother, had guided Noctis and his friends.

Stunning someone who had all the time in the world into dead silence was something Ignis should put on his resume if he succeeded in what he planned.

“I would rather let this world burn than let Bahamut have Noctis. I would start the fire myself if it meant Noctis would wind up alive in the end.”

“...” Ignis couldn’t see, but he was fairly certain that Ardyn was shaking his head while still at a complete loss for words.

“So I decided to gather the items necessary to start a fire, but sadly it does not work as well when it is a single mortal raging against the gods. An immortal however...”

“I’ve tried. Time and time again. You cannot change fate.”

“Perhaps a man shunned by the gods cannot. You are as much their puppet as they want to make Noctis one. But I am free from such constraints… and unlike you, I have something you lack.”

“And what exactly would that be?”

Ignis had to admit that after Noctis having been tormented by this man, there was something deeply satisfying about his next moves. He took a step backwards and raised his hand again. Ardyn _knew_ that was the one where he had put the ring on – Ardyn had been there. Ardyn had been the very reason why Ignis had put on the ring in the first place. Ignis slowly removed the glove. He had to admit he enjoyed the sharp inhale of air he heard as he curled his hand into a fist.

A moment later he heard the crackle of fire. The warmth of it was almost overwhelming in the dead cold of Insomnia at night, but Ignis let the flames grow higher and higher.

“What… what on earth have you _done?”_

Ignis tilted his head a little. “I struck a deal with the devil. And I intend to strike one with the second devil in this story.”

Books upon books upon books, and they had all talked about how the Infernian was supposed to be the last puzzle piece in the prophecy. Laying him to eternal rest was necessary, but only a Chosen with the might of the rest of the Hexatheon could do so. And Ifrit only accepted people after a trial by combat, and this acceptance was the last part. Only with the power of Six and the Kings of Old could the Chosen truly purge the Scourge and wipe out the Accursed.

Ignis made the fire rise higher and higher, made a solid wall out of it that surrounded him and Ardyn. He flicked sparks into Ardyn’s general direction, made the sparks that hit the ground burst into pillars of flame. Fountains of it. Ignis was definitely enjoying this, though he had to be careful to not let spiteful fury guide the blaze. Actually attacking the man would only make this harder on Ignis in the end – despite dancing with fire he was still mortal – Ardyn was not.

“You’d willingly trade your humanity for your king?”

“Not my king. The only person in my life that matters. The sun could rise a million times and it would be empty without him. I do not intend to let the gods take him after all he has been though. Besides,” Ignis rose the fires higher and higher, “I am perfectly in control.”

Only the crackle of fire accompanied them as Ardyn definitely thought about what Ignis had said. Somewhere in the distance he could hear the cries of Daemons in the darkness, but that mattered little. Nothing could pass a wall of fire without seriously getting injured. Ignis knew; he had tried to pass through a veil of it and paid dearly for it. His sight was a small price to pay for Noctis’ life, but the others had disagreed with that.

Ignis cracked a grin. Ardyn and his roles in Altissia were reversed now, and Noctis was only metaphorically lying between them. He had to admit that this was better than he had anticipated this going.

Then he heard the sound of a weapon manifesting out of thin air, so painfully familiar that it almost made the flames rage out of control. For but a split second his resolve wavered.

It was the first voice, the one that followed him since Altissia, that whispered to him. He had to walk this path now that he had chosen it, for fate could be changed in extreme circumstance but only with enough determination. The voice was hesitant saying this, almost a whine not unlike a dog’s accompanied it, but Ignis held his head high still. Even though he could not see Ardyn he made a point in turning his head towards the sound.

“Well,” he deliberately drew out the word a little, “I am having a… good day.” Their roles, reversed. Ardyn must have realised this as well now, because Ignis heard the man inhale sharply. “Naturally you could simply end me here and forsake yourself in the long run. Noctis would be unable to finish what the gods want him to do without the last puzzle piece, after all. But, as things stand, I hold the Infernian’s powers – effectively, you could say that I am the Infernian. Which means you need me. But, I am having an exceedingly good day, and will let you choose. End me right here, right now, and continue your wretched existence for all of eternity. Or… you could come with me.”

The flames quivered in anticipation. Ardyn said nothing.

Therefore Ignis only leaned forward slightly, a smile still on his lips and his eyes as unseeing as they were since Ardyn had offered him a very similar choice in Altissia.

“What do you say?”

* * *

_Sometimes he thinks back to the travels. To even before that, back to Insomnia when things were relatively peaceful. Noctis and Ignis had been together for so long, he no longer remembers when exactly they all but started unofficially dating. All those stolen kisses, touches when no one else was looking._

_Even now Ignis feels like Noctis is bound to appear behind him and put a hand on his shoulders. Say something about how normally it’s Noctis’ job to do reckless, stupid things that absolutely cannot end well. But Noctis is gone, and there’s a gaping hole in Ignis’ heart where his hopes for the future had been before Altissia. Noctis is gone and once he returns it will be to die for ancient sins he never committed. Ignis’ heart breaks further and further, and at this rate he’s going to run out of tape to keep it together._

_This is a desperate last attempt._

_Desperate enough to rouse the Infernian with an inferno and say what he said mere moments ago. He does not speak the language of the gods – Noctis can understand them, Lunafreya could understand them. Ravus likely understood them as well. But Ignis does not, and he stands there desperately hoping that Ifrit knows as much._

_He gets laughter as answer, and it is enough of an answer. Ignis takes a deep breath as he steps closer to the fire, the heat almost unbearable at this point._

_All those nights by a campfire. All those nights Noctis leaned against him, all those declarations of love even if he has to marry someone else. It burns in his heart like its own wildfire, and Ignis wishes he could see right now. See the devil behind the mirror, see the devil he is willing to make a pact with._

“ _Of course, I would never demand something without offering anything in return. Whatever you desire and if it is within the abilities of a mortal to procure, I will do it. I will do anything as long as I am able to. But I need your help for what I intend to do.”_

“ _I know your kind,” Ifrit’s voice is hoarse, sounds like that of a dying man, “and I know how much you disregard your own life. You mean to save Bahamut’s toy – because you love that mortal more than anything else. But does the toy even love you back? Is this really worth it?”_

_Ignis takes a few deep breaths and steps closer to the fire again. He dances with it, he knows the dangers of it. He slings it around again now that he understands how to fight in the dark, how to fight without sight. Fire has ever been his first choice, perhaps to mirror Noctis’ choice being ice. They even joked once that they were Ifrit and Shiva before the fall, and Ignis almost wants to say that right now. It would likely only get him incinerated on the spot._

“ _It is worth it. I love him. He loves me. I will not let Bahamut take him from me. But I need help to do so.”_

“ _A deal with the devil, then? That is how far you would go?”_

“ _Foolish is a man who climbs a mountain and raises a pyre if he has nothing to mourn yet – I would go that far. Me standing here before you alone should tell you how far I would go.”_

_Ignis knows the crackle of fire. He knows when the flames are dying down, and for a moment he feels panic. If Ifrit leaves him here without an answer, Noctis will die. Noctis will awaken one day and die, and Ignis knows that Noctis would want him to live. He knows that the universe would be cruel enough to let him live even as Noctis bleeds to death somewhere out of his reach._

_He can feel Ifrit leaning in. The heat increases. Ignis’ heart skips a few beats. Either Ifrit will send him running, will incinerate him on the spot… or give him what he wants._

* * *

Years passed. Ignis turned 26. 27. 28.

He bided his time with the others against the dark and the Daemons. Only when he knew that he was on his own entirely he let the flames run wild – it ran through his veins now, after all. He had become the Infernian’s messenger.

The Accursed’s accomplice, some who believed in the Cosmogony above all else would say. Ignis knew that if he were ever unfortunate enough to come across the Draconian it was over for him, but as listened to the waves lapping against the shores near the remains of Galdin Quay he knew that this would be very unlikely. He would not come across Bahamut on the main land, for the Draconian was waiting for Noctis to wake from Reflection just as the rest of the Six were.

The only people who acted as if something about Ignis had changed were the Glaives who had been to Angelgard after they had painstakingly reclaimed Galdin Quay. They were cautious around him, all four of them – most of all Libertus Ostium. Yet none of them ever said anything, and therefore Ignis said nothing.

His flames were all-consuming, and he was more than willing to test his mettle against a god at this rate. The world mattered.

29.

Faith in the gods was corroding. People felt left alone, and they were starting to talk about Noctis as if he were a demigod in the making. He was, but only Ignis knew that out of all people in Lestallum. A demigod to defeat another demigod and die before he could truly achieve godhood. It made the fire within him burn brighter. There would be no demigods.

30.

Fire was part of light. Light begot darkness. It only made sense that it was Ifrit whose powers had brought fourth the Scourge when he had been driven to lash back at the mortals he had nourished for so long. Still he turned to researching this further together with Talcott in his free time. There was something utterly fascinating to have the voice of the Infernian telling him which ones of these books were correct, which ones were not, and which ones turned to hyperbole. The ones that were widely accepted to be correct were usually the ones Ifrit’s voice in the back of his head called hyperbole.

31.

He spent his birthday sitting at a haven on his own, fire dancing across the runes. His entire body ached and yearned to hear Noctis’ voice again, and almost ten years later it hit him with an intensity that he had not considered before. On Noctis’ supposed 29th birthday Ignis set a haven on fire just for the hell of it. He knew that the longer Noctis stayed away the better; for staying away meant that Noctis would not have to march into Insomnia on his own to reclaim his throne.

32.

One night – was it even night if there was no sunlight to begin with – Ifrit’s voice in the back of his head whispered something in the language of the gods. Ignis did not understand that, but he immediately felt it. His aching heart pulled him to Hammerhead long before Gladiolus and Prompto arrived, long before anyone suggested that Talcott could drive around Galdin Quay for a few hours to see if he could find something. He felt Noctis long before the car’s headlights ever appeared in the distance.

It was like a pillar of light walking towards him, and though he was blind he could swear he _saw_ that pillar of light move about. It took him more restraint than he liked to admit to not pull Noctis into a crushing embrace.

That small touch had to be enough. Noctis was resigned to his fate just as Lunafreya had been. Ravus had failed to convince her to take another step.

Ignis was going to try regardless.

* * *

“ _You will have to pay a price for power, much as the Kings of Old demanded of you.”_

“ _They took my senses. Take my body, take my very life, the entire world, I care not.”_

“ _Royal blood, then.”_

_His insides constrict. Ifrit, the Infernian. Not a benefactor of mankind. Not kind. Not forgiving. Not a fan of dramatic declarations of love. Ignis can feel the swirling hatred somewhere in the flames, a pitch black abyss in the middle of the warmth._

_But hatred and vengeance… For a moment Ignis feels the spark of an idea in the back of his head, and the voice from Altissia – Pryna or Lunafreya, whichever of the two – whispers to him again for a second. Ignis is a tactician. So make a plan, the voice demands, there is always something that even the gods forget, before vanishing again, and Ignis keeps his head held high._

“ _Royal blood…”_

_Split images of a vision. Corrupted words, barely understandable, whispers as the fire eats them._

_Ignis has an idea._

_He bows. “The blood of a Lucis Caelum, then. The blood of a Lucis Caelum for you; the Scourge burned away and my beloved safe for me. Let this contract bind us together.”_

_Ignis Scientia leaves once the inferno dies down. Within his veins runs the promise, a contract. Binding. Final._

* * *

Ardyn awaited them in the throne room. Three days – Ignis would have only gotten three days with Noctis after ten years of longing. Noctis, too, had said that this was making his resolve waver, barely more than a hushed whisper into Ignis’ shoulder. Ten years, and this was what the gods saw fit to give them. If his blood did not already boil it would have certainly started to boil now, and Ignis held back the urge to set fire to Insomnia and scream his rage against the gods to the skies. But a rain of ash was not what would see this story to its end, the burning world was not something that Noctis would want.

They carried on as if the last night never happened. As if nothing had ever happened and they were king and advisor rather than one of the most unfortunate pairs of star-crossed lovers to have ever existed on Eos.

The urge to hold his hand was almost overwhelming when they entered the Citadel. Ignis knew that an important cog in the machine was missing by this point – Ifrit had not risen to fight them. Ifrit was with him, with every step, with every thought and every movement. Had been there when Noctis and Ignis had kissed with the desperation of two dying men in a burning world the night before.

But Noctis went without the acceptance and resignation of the Infernian. He was the Chosen, but the pillar of light somewhere in Ignis’ vision flickered. It was not complete. Noctis would not be able to purge the darkness and die for the world.

All according to plan.

* * *

_Ardyn stares at him, just as Ignis had back in Altissia. Instead of heavy rain hitting every scrape and scratch on his body, instead of literal saltwater in his wounds it now is fire that surrounds them. Looming, towering. All-consuming, and Ignis almost wants to start humming. Lashing out would have been so easy. Too easy perhaps. He could easily command fire to rain down on Ardyn and leave._

_Unfortunately Ignis needs him._

_Needs his cooperation._

_And Ardyn is not Ignis. Ignis lashed out when presented with playing along or fighting back, had fought desperately enough to sacrifice his senses to the Ring of the Lucii now on Noctis’ hand. Ardyn on the other hand…_

_The man sighs. “Fine, I’ll bite. Say I play along. What then?”_

_Ignis lowers the flames a little – just enough to show Ardyn that he had no malicious intent and would be humouring his question._

“ _Noctis lives – but you yet die. The Scourge ends, but without Noctis as its sacrifice.”_

“ _And how precisely do you mean to bring this about without throwing the whole world in the gutter? Think reasonably without being – ha – blinded by your love for just a second. You’re an intelligent boy, after all. You cannot defeat darkness without light. To defeat an all-consuming darkness you need an all-consuming light.”_

_Ignis shakes his head slowly. “I cannot go into details.” Not because he does not want Ardyn to ruin his plan. No, his plan is the only thing that Ifrit does not know. The Infernian may know his heart, his story – but he does not know his head. “But for the time being, I ask that we… ally with each other. Not actively. I will not take you into Lestallum, nor will I hurt the people in it. An alliance that does not come into play until the day Noctis wakes. And then… we’ll see.”_

“ _Mortals,” Ardyn sighs into the fire, “do they ever learn?”_

_He agrees to it, much as Ifrit had not too long ago. Ignis quenches the flames with a satisfied grin. Ifrit thinks he will get the world on its knees because of one blind fool who loves the Chosen. Ardyn thinks that the world will burn down._

_Ignis doesn’t care, but if all goes as he thinks it will… perhaps there is marginally less burning the world involved than anyone would assume._

* * *

Noctis was so resigned to his fate by now that Ignis could hear he was choking back tears when he asked Prompto for a photo to take along. Ignis had always assumed that Noctis would be able to play it tough and strong, that he would be ready for this. But this broke his heart all over again, he wanted to grab Noctis’ hands and tell him it was going to be all right. That he would not be dying for the gods tonight, that he would never be dying for the gods. As far as Noctis knew however all had been said and done, he was on his way out of the world.

Ardyn even had the gall to sit there asleep, only opening one eye to look at the group that stood in the throne room now.

“My. You’re faster than I anticipated.”

For but a second Ignis was not sure whether the man meant Noctis or him. Ten years was an exceedingly long time but they meant little to a man who had lived over two thousand years, so he likely meant Noctis being awake. But in the event that he had meant Ignis… Had Ardyn expected him to draw out as much time with Noctis as he possibly could?

Perhaps in another life, where fire did not follow his every waking moment.

Before Noctis could ever react, Ignis took a step forwards. Everything in this chain of events was wrong, and he felt the confusion from both Noctis and the Crystal up ahead. The throne would have been the place Noctis would have had to die on, and Ignis was not going to let them take him. Never.

Never, never, never.

The rise of fire, yet it did not consume what was left of the throne room, it did not hurt any of the people present. He had nurtured these flames for seven years, they were part of his soul now. A fire passionate enough to ensure that Ignis would get what he wanted. The fire would make the creator and the vanquisher of the Scourge work together to spare one life, and he heard the soft hiss of flames as they bounced against the Crystal over Ardyn’s head. The language of the gods, sharp and sudden, and Ignis knew that Ardyn and Noctis understood what kind of conversation the Infernian and the Draconian had now.

Igniting the world at dawn would have washed away the remnants of the Scourge, but taking out the source was the most important thing. Mangle, shred, make certain there would be nothing left of Ardyn. That, and Ifrit demanded his toll.

“Ignis, what...” Noctis’ voice was a whisper when Ignis took another step forward, and he knew that he likely looked like he was on fire.

“Hear me, Infernian, Draconian! The price demanded by the Infernian, as agreed upon – the blood of a Lucis Caelum.”

Before anyone could react Ignis had summoned one of his daggers and tossed it. The sound of it hitting solid flesh and burying itself in cloth was uncomfortably loud even in the middle of the calm inferno. And the flames quivered once again. Suddenly the heat was unbearable again, and gods and demigods alike realised what game Ignis had played.

“Oh, how devious,” Ardyn laughed as he slowly removed the dagger from his shoulder.

Pryna, Lunafreya, whoever of these two had given him his visions had said so themselves. There was always something that the gods oversaw even if they were the ones burning the world. Ifrit demanded royal blood.

Ardyn had been supposed to be the first king of Lucis. He was of royal blood.

“He’s not,” hissed the flames as they turned back to Ignis.

“Royal blood or not does not matter. What I promised you, Infernian, was the blood of _a Lucis Caelum._ Twist it as you might… Ardyn remains of the very bloodline. So take your tribute – make your pyre out of his remains, and burn away the Scourge you delivered upon us. The contract binds us; so take what you were promised and give me what you promised me. Such are the rules of this world,” he cracked a smile as the fire withdrew in defeat, “so play by them.”

* * *

_The sun rises and the fire dies down. The sun rises and people dance in the streets._

_The sun rises and Noctis will sit the throne, will rule his country._

“ _I can’t believe you… outsmarted the gods.”_

“ _Ah, ‘twas but a little bit of wordplay and research.”_

“ _A little bit of it? I had no idea that normal people could forge a covenant with the gods.”_

“… _Perhaps I am not as normal as you would believe.”_

_The ring. It was all because he had worn the Ring of the Lucii, now sparkling on Noctis’ hand – it had given him a power that no other mortal was supposed to have. Ignis merely laughed softly as he felt the sun rise for the first time in ten years and leans against Noctis._

_The sun rises._

_Noctis kisses him and Ignis knows that the world will never burn, even if he would have let it._


End file.
